


Don't Listen

by TreacleTart



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Communtiy: HPFT, F/F, Femslash, Pre-Marauders' Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 10:03:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6952162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TreacleTart/pseuds/TreacleTart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Don't listen to them, Hepzibah," she said, her voice tinkling off of her lips like notes off of piano strings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Listen

  
Beautiful Banner by abhorsen. @ TDA! 

The sun has just begun to set on another crisp spring evening as you enter Malfoy Manor. Septimus Malfoy is marrying off his son, Abraxas, and all of the proper Pureblood witches will be here queuing for his attention. You want little to do with the noise or the pretense, but your parents gave you little choice. You are far to aged to not have made a match and your mother’s desperation over the matter is palpable.

At the entrance, you see Abraxas, dressed in magnificent green robes, pressed into perfection. His crystal blue eyes sparkle as he smiles, greeting each lady as she enters the ball. You chuckle to yourself as girl after girl swoons and bats her eyelashes at him. His charisma disguises his rotten personality well.

Turning, he notices you standing in the doorway and looks you up and down. His lip curls upward in a sneer, conveying his annoyance that you’ve shown your face. Malice drips from his eyes and the tension between you is intense. You half expect him to lunge forward at you when another pretty Pureblood princess steps in front of him. In an instant the fearsome snarl is gone, replaced by a pleasant grin.

As the line of waiting ladies thins, you step forward cautiously, like a woman approaching venomous tentacula. “Abraxas,” you say through puckered lips. The name is hard against your tongue, grating at your teeth as you say it.

“Hepzibah,” he says, his voice politely hiding his desire to throw you from the room. “What are you doing here?”

“Your father sent me an invitation,” you say, holding out the crisp sheath of parchment. All of your focus goes to holding your hand steady so that you don’t betray the nerves rapid firing through your extremities.

Laughter erupts from Abraxas' throat, startling you. You begin to wonder if he’s lost his mind as it continues on and on.

“Clearly, that was a mistake. My father would never invite anyone of your breeding to an event like this, regardless of how much money your father has. I’d tell you to go home; that you’d only embarrass yourself in polite company, but I need a good laugh, so…” He steps aside motioning you in.

Whispers break out the moment you step into the ballroom. You feel a warm tingling flush creep up your shoulders and neck, but you try your best to ignore it. Ladies line the walls, several of them waving and smiling as if they’re your best friends. You know that the moment you turn away they will spit venom.

A beautiful young woman appears at your arm, brushing your elbow lightly with her fingertips. Goose bumps bloom across your flesh at the contact. “Hepzibah, you’re here!” the young lady cries, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“Seraphina,” you return, your voice a mere whisper, all of your confidence flooding from your body. “You look stunning.”

She smiles and for a moment you forget where you are, blinded by the magnificent piece of artwork standing before you. “So do you. Blue really suits your fair complexion.” She trails a nail over your forearm and you fight the urge to shiver.

Eyes sear into your skin from all around the room and you feel more self conscious, wondering if everyone in the room can see how badly you want to embrace her. Every molecule of your body is screaming for her touch, but you know that would only cause her trouble. With her striking looks, she’ll soon be married off to a wealthy Pureblood family and you don’t want to sully her name by association. 

“Well, I really should be on my way then,” you mutter, motioning vaguely behind you. “Lots of people to visit. I really should go and try to make a good impression.”

Seraphina frowns and immediately you long to take your words back. “Oh. Alright then,” she says, smiling sadly. For a moment, you allow yourself to imagine kissing away the sorrow in it, but you shake that thought from your head. She is here to find a husband, not a girlfriend. And neither are you.

Slipping through the crowd, you feel as if you are suffocating. The absence that exists when Seraphina is no longer there makes you feel as if a dementor is hanging over your head, sucking bits and pieces of your soul away with every step you take. You flee to the balcony, hoping to find some modicum of solace in the views of the extravagant Malfoy gardens.

The vista before you is as breathtaking as you hoped. Cherry blossoms decorate the landscape; their sweet perfume permeating the cool spring breeze that rustles your robe. A colony of bats flaps over the trees, gliding through the quickly fading rays of sunlight and just a bit to your right, you see the moon cresting at the edge of the horizon. You wish you could freeze it in a picture so that you could hold on to the beauty years from now. You can think of nothing that would make it better, except for Seraphina’s presence beside you. 

“Oi! Smith!” a brash voice calls out behind you, shattering the tranquility that you’ve only just found. “What do you think you’re doing here?”

“Hello Caspian. A pleasure as always,” you retort, feigning ignorance at his hostile mannerisms.

Amusement tickles you as he puffs out his chest and tries his best to look threatening. It serves only to make him look like a pig in red robes. “You know your kind isn’t welcome here. You should leave before you disgrace your family any further.”

“Don’t listen to him, Hepzibah,” Seraphina says, her voice tinkling off of her lips like notes off of piano strings as she appears from behind you. “You are more than welcome here. Not all of us are so prejudiced.”

Courage swells up in your stomach causing you to lift your chin proudly. “And what kind is that, Caspian? Please, enlighten me.”

“You know, the true Purebloods. There are only twenty eight family names and yours doesn’t seem to be on the list. It seems some of your ancestors decided it would be a good idea to breed with filthy muggle scum, which makes you only slightly better.” The derision in his voice burns his words into you, charring your flesh wherever they land. 

Fury rises and your blood boils, but when you speak, you measure your words. “Well, if being an inbred bastard is a requirement for this club, I’m quite glad to be on the outside, thank you.”

Seraphina’s raucous laughter is all the reward you need. The crowd now pouring out on to the balcony doesn’t matter nor does the way that Caspian Nott is turning twenty different shades of purple. All that matters is the joy written across her face and the admiration in her eyes.

“Parkinson! What in the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” shouts Octavious Burke as he storms forward, shoving people out of his way. Seraphina pales at the sight of him and for the first time in the evening, she looks fearful. “You are my fiancee and I will not tolerate you insulting my friends. If you are to be my woman, you will behave.”

Dropping her gaze to the ground, Seraphina studies some unseen stain on the floor. You want desperately to put a hand on her shoulder, to offer her some sort of comfort, but you know that it will only make things worse.

“Now, apologize to Caspian,” he demands. 

Still staring at the ground, she murmurs one single word that causes you to inhale in shock. “No.”

“What did you say to me?” Octavious nearly shouts, anger radiating from his body.

“I said no. I will not bloody well apologize.”

Out of nowhere, Octavious swings his hand through the air towards Seraphina’s beautiful face and you are surprised by how slow it seems to be moving. Before it’s even made contact, you’ve drawn your wand and are casting a curse. The loud smacking sound of flesh on flesh is echoed by his back slamming into the wall behind you.

Knowing that you’ve crossed the point of no return, you reach your hand out to Seraphina and twist on the spot, thinking only of reaching a safe place. You’re spinning away when a weird sensation causes you to lurch. You can feel someone pulling her from you. Grasping onto her like your life depends on it, you pull forward, battling with your will. Your body feels as if it’s ripping at the seams, but you refuse to let her go.

But then you feel her release your hand and the pressure stops. An anguished scream tears through the blackness and you slam down into your family home. Seraphina is nowhere to be found. Every part of you wants to go back for her, but you don’t even know where to begin. You dissolve to a puddle on the floor and sob.

Later, you are vaguely aware of your mother telling you that Seraphina Parkinson and Octavious Burke are to be wed. You never hear from her again.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! 
> 
> This story was originally posted on HPFF for the Minor Character One-Shot Challenge. Hepzibah Smith was the character I was assigned and I had a blast writing about her. 
> 
> I’d love to know what you thought of this, so feel free to leave comments below!
> 
> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> ~Kaitlin/TreacleTart


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